


Trinity: Favorite Things

by Djinn



Series: Trinity Series [5]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djinn/pseuds/Djinn
Summary: Just a short revisit with these crazy kids once they settle into their separate lives--or not so separate.





	1. Raindrops on Roses

Bruce sensed rather than saw Diana reaching for him as he worked at his desk in the batcave. "Time to go?"

"They just got here." She leaned in, hugging him close. "I'll miss you."

He turned, pulling her down into his lap. "I want you and Lois to be good on Themyscira." At the girl-on-girl heaven his woman was taking Clark's wife to for an exclusive article on a "Weekend in Paradise." He sighed. There was no way they weren't going to be doing it like minks.

"Define good." She smiled, but her eyes lacked their normal sparkle. "It's just..."

"What?"

"I don't like leaving you during the holidays."

"I'll be okay."

She snuggled in, her hands finding all the right places. "Kal brought Justin. Maybe they could stay here with you?"

His best friend and his son, here for a few nights. Bruce didn't meet her eyes.

"It would be good for you to spend time with him."

He wasn't sure which "him" she meant, but it really didn't matter. He wanted too much from both of them. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know. Justin and Clark here. You and Lois off somewhere else doing God knows what..." Shit, why had he said that? If they hadn't been planning anything before, now she would know he thought they had been.

She kissed him hard, then held his face, forcing him to look at her. "Get to know your son, Bruce. And as far as Kal goes, don't worry so much. You'll know what's right."

"Like we knew what was right before?" He wondered if she'd been doing what felt right with Clark lately. 

Whoever thought the swinging life was easy was a damned fool. 

She wriggled against him, then got up, pulling him off of his work stool. "Come out of the batcave, Mister Wayne."

Following her up the stairs, he saw Lois first. She looked wonderful, laughing at something Alfred was saying, her head thrown back, neck bared. She glanced over at them, smiling at him warmly, then gestured to Diana. "You ready, Princess?"

Diana gave her a look that was probably supposed to be a glare, but looked too full of affection—or something—to be that. "Ready, Mrs. Kent."

"I've told you not to call me that. Only Clark gets to call me that." Lois walked over to Clark, who was looking particularly handsome and very paternal as he held a sleeping Justin in his arms. "Take care of our boy."

Bruce felt a pang. "Their" boy. His son was their boy.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, a fleeting feeling of connection. "It gets easier," Alfred whispered, but Bruce knew that Clark heard him because he looked over at them.

"I'll see you out," Alfred said, letting Lois take him by the arm.

Diana threw Bruce a last, thoughtful look before she disappeared down the hall.

"So." Bruce walked over to the bar, not sure what he was doing. It was too early to drink.

"Diana suggested we stay."

"Yeah, she said that to me, too."

"It's probably an inconvenience..." Clark looked down at Justin as if making eye contact with Bruce was too difficult. "I don't want to put you out."

"I have a gazillion guest rooms. I think we can fit you and the bambino in." Bruce sighed and went over to sit next to Clark. But not too close next to him. Not so close he might be tempted to remember—

"Diana also hinted that maybe..." Clark was actually blushing. He looked at Bruce, catching him with the full force of sky blue eyes. "I miss you. You've been staying away."

"It's difficult."

"I know. But it doesn't have to be this difficult." He looked down at Justin. "He should know you."

"His kindly uncle?" Bruce got up, walked to the window, clutching at the frame. "His father's BFF."

"Someday we'll tell him the truth. When it makes sense." At Bruce's look, he laughed shortly. "Okay, when it makes as much sense as it's ever going to. And when we tell him, if you've been in his life from the beginning as, yes, an uncle or some kind of trusted family friend, it'll be easier."

Bruce thought about Alfred. Finding the truth out from him. It hadn't been easy. Would it have been any easier if Alfred had told him he was his father earlier? He laughed; it came out a bitter chuckle. "The trusted family friend who occasionally makes love to his mother?"

"And his father." Clark said it so low that Bruce almost didn't hear him.

"That, too."

Clark made a makeshift crib of pillows and settled Justin in it. He walked over, standing close to Bruce but not touching him, the saddest look—a tired look—on his face. "I miss you. I don't know if you miss me or just Lois. If you're mad at me for raising your son or for being a lousy best friend, or because you want me too much in ways you'd rather forget."

"What if I don't know why I'm mad?"

"That's fine. Just...admit it. Don't shut me out." He looked over at their sleeping son. "Don't shut him out."

Justin moved, gurgling a bit, his smile sweet and innocent in sleep. Bruce couldn't remember the last time he'd felt innocent. He turned away, pain flooding him as he contemplated what he'd lost—what he'd never had a chance to have.

Clark moved closer, rubbing his hand on Bruce's back, gently and not in an overtly sensual way—but it was sensual. Bruce should break away, not lean back into his friend's strong hand, a hand that could hold his full weight without effort. A hand moving up to his neck, to ruffle his hair along the collar line, causing shivers to run through him.

"Alfred said you had a Christmas tradition." Clark's breath was hot in his ear. "The zoo, all bundled up, with cocoa at the monkey cage and hot dogs at the nocturnal house."

Bruce knew his laugh was still bitter. "I inhabit the nocturnal house."

"Diana might not think that was very flattering." Clark mock punched him. "It's a chance to get Justin used to bats. I think that'd be a good thing." He walked away, cooing at Justin, who was awake and looking over at Bruce. 

It had been weeks since Bruce had seen him, but the toddler smiled at him, blue-green eyes mirroring his own as he felt a sappy smile answer.

Clark picked Justin up and carried him over, depositing him in Bruce's arms. "You're a natural, my friend."

"I am not going to engage in babytalk." But then Justin reached up for him, grabbing his chin and giggling. "Who's the silly boy?"

Clark just laughed, his eyes tender and finally at ease. "So, the zoo?" Before Bruce could answer, Clark called out down the hall, "Alfred, you want to come to the zoo?"

Alfred smiled as he walked through the door, his eyes lightening as he saw Bruce holding Justin. "Oh, I have a great deal to do today. Maybe next time."

"But it's your tradition." 

"And now it's time to make it yours." Alfred walked over, gave Justin a kiss on the forehead, and the baby gurgled happily, then reached for Alfred's glasses. "No, Master Justin. I need those."

It seemed like Justin was laughing with his whole body, as if he knew how much fun it was to tease his...grandfather. "Here," Bruce said, easing Justin into Alfred's arms. "I need to get ready." He actually was ready, but Alfred didn't seem inclined to question him. He carried Justin off with him, making baby smalltalk not at all as silly sounding as Bruce's.

Clark followed him up the stairs. 

"Something you want, Clark?"

"That's pretty much the problem we all face, isn't it? This whole situation is because of something we wanted."

"Not something. Someone. Several someones." Bruce stopped at the door to the bathroom. "What do you want?"

He wanted to hear Clark say he wanted everything. He wanted him to say he just wanted to use the can. He wanted everything that ran the gamut between the two answers.

God help him, Bruce didn't know what he wanted.

"You look really good." Clark touched his cheek. "It's been too long."

Bruce tried not to lean into his hand. He failed miserably. Closing his eyes, he knew Clark was going to kiss him, was surprised when his friend didn't. He opened his eyes to see Clark smiling in a knowing and gentle way. 

"That would make it easier, wouldn't it? If it was just me doing this?" He pulled Bruce to him, a fierce hug that left him breathless, then turned and walked back downstairs.

Bruce sighed and went into the bathroom, trying not to think what might have happened if Clark had followed him in. He stared into the mirror, assessing that he was starting to look older than Clark, that eventually he would look too old for Diana, as well. 

He and Lois would age; the other two wouldn't catch up. Would Justin start to think of them as his grandparents—but Justin was human, too. Would Justin eventually look older than Clark and Diana?

He let out a breath he wasn't sure why he was holding. This wasn't solving anything, was only giving him a headache. It was time to go.

Clark had Justin bundled up against the weather. He smiled at Bruce's look. "Yep, this is the coat you sent." He tucked the boy into the backpack carrier. "I never know if it's too cold for him—Lois has to tell me. So you'll have to let me know if you think he's getting overheated."

Bruce had a feeling Clark was lying, that he could tell if Justin was uncomfortable the same way he could tell how far along his partner was when making love. But Clark was trying to include him, trying to make him feel necessary.

Trying to make him feel loved?

"Have a good time, my boy," Alfred said, his hand again lingering on Bruce's shoulder, and suddenly Bruce wished he was coming with them. Alfred seemed to read his expression. "You'll be fine." 

Bruce followed Clark out, then realized he didn't have a car seat. But Clark was opening a dark green SUV and putting Justin into a car seat in the back. "You didn't fly?"

"We did. On an airplane." Clark looked at him. "For his sake, we're trying to appear to be a normal couple. It would be sort of hard to explain Lois and Clark's son flying in Superman's arms."

Bruce was pretty sure Lois had just flown that way to Themyscira—in Wonder Woman's arms, even if Diana hadn't been in her star-spangled armor—but he decided not to mention that. He appreciated what Clark was saying, what lengths he and Lois were willing to go to keep their son from being a target. "Their" could mean so much.

Clark was a better driver than Bruce expected, and they got to the zoo quickly. It wasn't as crowded as it would have been in any other season, but it was decorated with garlands and lights and there were enough people around to make it festive. It had been years since Bruce had come here with Alfred. His most recent times at the zoo had been to capture some bad guy or put escaped animals back.

Should his son be at a place where animals escaped with such seeming regularity?

"Your heart's racing," Clark murmured as he walked with a bounce that made Justin giggle.

Justin's laughter grew as they made their way to the giraffe habitat. The boy reached out as if he could touch the giraffe's neck, and he made nonsense sounds that would someday be words Bruce could understand.

But he wouldn't be the first to hear those words. His son would say "daddy" to someone else.

"You know, my back's really sore," Clark said, lying with noticeable ease as he took off the baby backpack and settled Justin on Bruce's back before either of them could protest. "Perfect."

Bruce felt the unaccustomed heaviness of Justin, the movement of small legs against his back, the soft feel of his hands in his hair. His son.

More nonsense sounds, and Clark led them around the zoo as if Gotham was his home town and not Bruce's. When they hit the monkey cage, he walked off to the concession stand and Bruce swung Justin's carrier gently off his back and sat on a bench with him, the soft material letting him hold him without taking him out.

Justin gurgled some more, his bright eyes taking everything in. Then he smiled at Bruce.

Running his hand over Justin's silky hair, Bruce said, "You're a good kid."

Justin slapped his hand lightly on Bruce's shoulder, and Bruce made himself not read anything into the movement. There was no underlying message in that, just a child doing what children do. Expressing himself any way he could.

"He's beautiful."

Bruce nearly whirled off the bench and had to grab for Justin. He saw a woman—how the hell had she snuck up on him? Had he been so wrapped up in his son he'd forgotten to be wary?

Who was she? Did she mean harm? Should he incapacitate her?

"How old is he?" Her smile was easy and non-threatening. 

He settled down, wondered if she had any idea the danger she'd been in. "Eleven months." Nearly a year old. Soon they'd have that first party with cake and toys and too many parents.

She sat down for a moment, holding her hand out for Justin to play with. "My nephew's that age." 

Bruce wasn't sure what to say to that, so he just nodded.

"Oh, sweetie, that's so cute." Clark's voice was full of amusement as he sat down on Bruce's other side, holding both hot chocolates and smiling at the woman. "Showing off our boy..."

The woman stood up quickly. "Well, like they say, three's a crowd..." She hurried off.

"Should we break it to her that in our experience it's not?" Clark sipped at his hot chocolate. "This is good stuff. I can see why you liked to come here." He held Bruce's cup out to him, didn't spill a drop as he tilted it slowly for Bruce to drink. "So were you interviewing for a fifth? Going for our own basketball team? The Gotham Players, maybe?" 

"She talked to me. I didn't..." Bruce sighed. "You're teasing me."

"I am. And I'm not." Clark leaned back. "We do make a nice couple. I'm sure she was jealous of how pretty we are."

"Shut up, Clark." Bruce stood and carried Justin over to the monkey cage. "That's your daddy's distant relatives, kiddo. Your real dad's." He'd have to stop saying things like that pretty soon. Kids took everything in. "Your fake dad's distant relatives were flies."

He heard Clark laugh.

"Or maybe cockroaches. Flying ones."

Another laugh. Smiling, he turned to look at Clark. Sitting on the bench, his hair lighting up blue in the wintry sun, he did look very pretty.

"I miss you, too," he murmured, knowing Clark would catch it.

A beaming smile was his answer.

He walked back over to the bench, sat down, and held Justin on one side while he took the hot cocoa from Clark and tried to keep it on the other. Justin knocked his arm, and he spilled, but on himself, not on the child. The cocoa stained his shirt—he had a lot to learn about fathering.

Or uncle-ing. Whatever the term would be to cover the strange relationship they all had with each other.

"So," he asked into the silence, noticing Clark perking up, "you going to stay?"

"The night, you mean?"

Bruce nodded.

"Sure. I bet there's one of your gazillion guest rooms that's baby safe." 

"Probably one near my bedroom." Alfred no doubt had the one right next door fixed up with a crib by now. He'd had that look—the one that meant he was doing something for Bruce's own good.

"Sounds great." Clark's voice was casual, nonchalant, but Bruce imagined if he had Kryptonian hearing, he'd be able to hear Clark's heart going double time. 

"That way, if Justin gets lonely, you can call for me." Which made no sense but he needed a set up for what he wanted.

What he wanted. Isn't that what Clark had said? What Diana had hinted at?

He sighed—this was a slippery slope they were on. Would they be handing him Lois next? What he wanted covered a lot of acreage.

"What about if I get lonely?" Clark's retort was less happy than it might have been—he'd heard Bruce's sigh, no doubt.

"Same deal applies." He leaned in, his shoulder tight against Clark's. They sipped their cocoa while Justin made noises that sounded very much like the monkeys'.

"When he's older," Clark murmured, "you should bring him here."

"Yeah. It'll be fun."

"I mean just you." Clark squeezed Bruce's shoulder, his smile so sweet and caring that Bruce had to swallow past a lump in his throat. "It could be your tradition. For the holidays."

"Yeah. Maybe. That'd be nice." But he had a feeling the smile that threatened was more than just a "that'd be nice" smile—it was a "that'd be everything" smile. He hugged Justin to him and managed to do it without spilling a drop of his cocoa.

Clark gave him a smile that was half friend, half lover. It was a look they could never have shared before all this, a look that maybe wasn't the best idea to share now. 

But he wanted it. He had Diana and Clark had Lois, and their women were off doing who knew what to each other, and that didn't matter because all Bruce wanted to think about was how soft Clark's lips looked and how strong his hands would be as they held him.

It was going to be a long day—hard to wait for what he wanted.

Justin giggled again, and Bruce looked down, saw that the boy was smiling up at him. They still had the rest of the zoo and hot dogs at the nocturnal house. Would Justin cry in the dark? Or would he laugh at the bats and the sloths?

There were bears to watch play with their logs, and lions to hear roar, and elephants to marvel at.

It was going to be a long day. Over far too soon.


	2. And Whiskers on Kittens

The warm sun and gentle lapping of the surf nearly lulled Lois into a stupor as she sat on the sand with Diana and a few other Amazons and listened to them talk. She was supposed to be taking this in so she could write the article of all articles on Wonder Woman's home. But it was just so nice to not have to be "on guard" all the time, listening for Justin, anticipating what he needed.

She loved her son. Loved him more than she'd thought possible when she'd found out she was pregnant. But he exhausted her.

She looked over at Diana—even among all these amazingly fit women, she still managed to shine. "Who's the fairest of them all?" Lois muttered, and one of the Amazons turned to look at her.

"Just jetlag," she said, laughing it off with a sound that came out meaner than she intended.

Diana turned to her, her face unreadable, but Lois had the feeling she'd hurt her feelings, and she felt herself blushing.

This was why she hated Diana. She could give Lois that look and make her feel worse than the nuns at St. Agnes used to. Although thinking of Diana and nuns in the same breath was definitely sacrilegious. If people only knew what their pillar of womanhood had been up to... Lois could write that story. Of course she'd have to leave out her own not inconsiderable part.

Better to just keep quiet.

She glanced over at Almipone, a russet-haired beauty who'd been smiling at her since Lois walked up. Almipone's smile grew wider and her eyes seemed to bore into Lois's. Without having to look, Lois knew Diana was frowning.

She looked anyway.

As expected, Diana was frowning, but she didn't say anything other than, "I think that's enough for now. Lois is tired from the trip here." She sat as the others rose, didn't even get up when Lois did.

"Something wrong, Princess?"

"You seem...out of sorts."

"Nope. I'm fine." Lois had the irrational urge to kick sand at Diana. "You don't own me." 

"Owning you would be counter to Amazon philosophy." Diana rose in one graceful motion. "Or weren't you listening when my sisters were so generously sharing?"

"I was."

Diana's look was nun worthy again.

"Okay, maybe there was some zoning out. But I'm not looking for sound bites here. I'm trying to suck in the atmosphere. So I have some context to form the article."

"Whatever." Diana strode away, sand fleeing from her feet as she marched.

"Whatever? You've been hanging around me too much." Lois hurried to catch up. "Look, I'm very grateful you brought me here."

"You asked me to bring you here."

"And I'm very grateful for that. But...you don't own me."

"Who said I did?" Diana turned to look at her. "Do you want to go back? Collect your husband—who is probably having very good sex with my lover—and your son and go home?"

Lois felt like Diana was clobbering her over the head with the realities of life. "No."

"Then at least try to act gracious. I'm going riding. You do whatever it is reporters do." Diana took off, the same way Clark did when he was frustrated: right into the sky where mere mortals couldn't follow.

Lois took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. It was what Bruce no doubt did when Diana drove him nuts. But did she drive him nuts? Or was it only Lois who felt this edgy attraction/repulsion around her?

Okay, right now, it was definitely more on the attraction side. But still edgy.

"I was surprised Diana brought you here." Another redhead, wilder looking this time. Artemis—Lois pulled the name out of her memory.

"I'm hard to say no to."

Artemis looked like she didn't get that. "You're married to that man Diana has feelings for."

"Well, I'm glad I'm aware of her feelings for him, or you'd have just given me the surprise of all time."

"If I understand the situation correctly, you had a child with Diana's lover."

Was Diana sending bulk emails out? Jesus. "Something like that."

"Hmmm." Artemis gestured toward a grassy meadow. "Come, walk with me."

"Okay." She moved carefully across the sand, a little afraid of this woman who had once taken Diana's place—although she'd never admit that to anyone.

"I, too, find Diana frustrating." Artemis had a mean little smile on her face.

"I never said I found her frustrating."

"You didn't have to. I recognize the look." Artemis sighed. "I've seen it in the mirror enough times."

"You...like her?"

"No. But that doesn't mean I don't want her."

"Oh. Ohhhh. So you do get it."

Artemis gave her a look that said it all.

"I wish I could shake this. She's been a pain in my ass for a very long time. And my husband is crazy about her. And that other guy, too. And..."

"And yet you still want her." Artemis pointed off to the other side of the field, where someone with jet black hair was riding a horse of the same hue. "She's...Diana."

Lois sat down on one of the logs lining the field. "Yes. Yes, she is, damn her."

Artemis handed her a water skin. "This will be a good game. I'll be on the opposing side. Cheer me on if you feel like it."

"She'll be very pissed with me if I do."

"Somehow, I don't think you'll care. In fact, you might like that." Artemis shot her a wry grin and then loped across the field to where the horses were being held.

Lois realized Diana was watching her, then she wheeled her horse and took off down the field, joining six other women on horseback. Artemis and her team took the opposing side. 

The game was a lot like polo. If you played it with war horses and very bitchy women. Lois winced more than once and felt like calling foul, but no one on the field seemed surprised at the level of aggression.

Just to piss Diana off, she did cheer Artemis on when the two were racing for the ball on her side of the field.

The game was a draw, the players sweaty and laughing as they dismounted and clasped arms. They led their horses off, all except Diana, who let Artemis take her mount. She stood on the field, arms crossed over her chest, staring at Lois with a look that was sort of nunlike and sort of the antithesis of that.

"What?" Lois asked as Diana finally dropped the 'tude and walked over to her.

"You irritate me, Lois." 

"Well, right back at you." Lois got up, backing away from the log and from Diana. "I want to go home."

Diana caught up with her in three steps. She pulled her close, the way Clark held her when he was about to take off. "Fine, we'll go home."

Diana smelled spicy. How could the woman smell good after exercise? It was so damned unfair to women who stank after working out. Diana's hair blew in the breeze, soft curly tendrils of it beating gently against Lois's cheek. She grabbed one of the strands and pulled Diana to her.

The kiss lasted a long time. 

"Home, then?" Diana asked, but she was smiling.

"Oh, shut up." Lois pushed her down onto the grass and let herself do the things she wanted to do to this woman she sort of hated and also loved far too much. And Diana did things to her that left her panting.

The thundering of hooves brought Lois back to reality. She looked over at the field and saw a group of Amazons riding in formation. "Should we leave?"

Diana turned her head lazily, smiling as she pulled her cloak over both of them. "We'll be more conspicuous if we run away guiltily."

"Plus, this kind of thing probably happens all the time, right? Girl-on-girl action in the middle of the spectator section?"

Diana laughed. "Leave that out of the article, okay?"

Lois cuddled in against her and was surprised when Diana kissed her gently on the forehead, then on the eyes. "Diana, do you like me?"

"I don't know." A long sigh, and then Diana continued the gentle kisses to her cheek, her chin, her neck, then back to her lips.

"This is natural for you. Bruce and Clark aren't."

"That's true." Diana turned a little, snuggling into Lois and seemed to be breathing in her scent. "I'm sorry for everything."

"For the mess we've made?"

Diana nodded.

"We made it together. I didn't have to keep coming back." Lois pulled Diana closer. "I'm just sorry that it's so messy."

"But relationships are. Even for two. Add in a third and fourth..."

Lois laughed. "I think we could pack in a few more here. Have enough for a baseball team if we wanted."

"We don't want." Diana's voice was nun stern.

They lay quietly for a while, the sound of horses and women wafting over to them. Then the horsewomen rode off and Diana took her cloak back and got dressed, leaving Lois a little bereft. 

"That was it?" Lois couldn't believe she'd just said that.

"That was what?" Diana looked confused. "I'm hungry. Aren't you hungry?" Then she smiled. "I'm not abandoning you."

"Oh. I knew that." Lois sat up and pulled on her shirt. "And like I care anyway."

Diana smacked her on the ass, chuckling at her look. "Oh, you cared. You very much cared. It was quite satisfying, in fact, how much you cared."

"This is me not caring." Lois pulled on the rest of her clothes and stalked off.

"Food is this way."

Executing a perfect about face, Lois stalked off in the other direction.

"I don't really mind if you walk ahead of me." Diana was definitely laughing at her.

Lois glanced back, saw that Diana was grinning and staring at her butt. "Perv."

Another laugh, softer this time, happier. God help them, but they lived for this snarky repartee. Lois held her hand out, and Diana hurried to catch up, taking her hand and squeezing lightly.

"So, do you ever go skinnydipping here?" Lois smiled at the thought of that warm, warm water and no clothes.

"Maybe." Diana was smiling in what had to be nostalgia.

"Just how many of these women have you been with?"

"That is none of your business." But there was something in Diana's expression that was off.

"What?"

"Not very many of them. I'm the princess, for Hera's sake. It would cause bad feelings if I were too free with my affection."

Suddenly Lois got a picture of how lonely that might be, having to think that way, having to keep a distance. "I'm sorry."

Diana shrugged. 

"You're isolated here."

"These are my sisters."

"But you're still isolated. That's why you like our little family. There are no boundaries."

Diana seemed to swallow hard. "When my mother was alive, it was easier. I didn't have to work so hard to be what they all need. I could just be me." She tried to let go of Lois's hand, but Lois held on.

"You can just be yourself with me. I won't tell."

Diana leaned in and kissed her. Then she shook her head. "You're too damned perceptive, Mrs. Kent."

"I told you not to call me that."

"And I listen to you so often."

Lois laughed, glad to be back on familiar—if bitchy—ground. 

"This is the best beach." Diana nodded toward a secluded patch of sand. "If you want to come back later and...?"

"Maybe. If you play your cards right."

"Amazons do not play cards."

"Then whatever works, Princess. Work with me here."

Again the pleased smile. Shit, they needed a therapist to sort this relationship out. Lois imagined what Clark and Bruce were up to and smiled at the idea of the two of them taking Justin somewhere, how Alfred would play with her son—dote on him, probably.

Maybe they didn't need a shrink. They could just let this be whatever it wanted to be.

Whatever they needed it to be.

"I do want to," she whispered, knowing Diana would hear her. Then she took off running, toward the palace and food.

Diana didn't let her win.

She hadn't expected her to.


	3. Bright Copper Kettles and Warm Woolen Mittens

Alfred made his way down the hall more by memory than sight. The mansion was dark, all except for the dim nightlights that ran the length of the hall and a gentle light that spilled out from under the door of the room he'd made up for Clark and Justin. He saw something cross the light, then the door opened and Clark stood silhouetted.

"Alfred?"

"Just finishing up, sir." He moved closer, so he could see Clark's face.

"You don't have to call me 'sir.' You know that."

"It's what I'm used to. It's how things are."

"Don't you ever get tired of how things are?"

Alfred wondered just how deep that question went. What was Clark tired of? "I've found that it's rarely worthwhile to rail against fate."

"Fate." Clark's smile carried a note of bitterness. "Is it fate if you bring it on yourself?"

"No, sir. Then it's just life." With a smile, he put a hand on Clark's shoulder. "And I don't presume to judge, as you well know. Now, if you want to go talk to Master Bruce, I'd be happy to watch Justin."

"Talk. Right." Clark seemed embarrassed.

"Go on, then. He'll be waiting." Alfred peeked in, saw that Justin was asleep and hoped the longing he felt for the boy—his grandson—didn't show. "I'll just sit with him for a while, if that's all right." 

"No one I'd trust more with him." Clark turned to look at Justin, then glanced across the hall to Bruce's room. 

"Go, sir. He's waiting."

"Good night, then."

"Good night, lad." Alfred closed the door gently, then sat in the rocking chair he'd brought down from the attic. He leaned back, watched the grandchild he never thought he'd live to see sleeping peacefully.

He'd lied to Clark. He wasn't planning on just staying awhile. He'd stay all night if he could. 

He found himself breathing in rhythm with Justin's gentle inhale and exhale. He remembered when Bruce was this age, how he'd sneak into the nursery once Thomas and Martha had gone to sleep, watching his son—the son he could never acknowledge—sleep.

Bruce had been the most beautiful child he'd ever seen. But the memories of his boy were tinged with the unreality of those first days—the realization that they'd all made this child. That something he'd never been sure was right had brought about this wonderful little boy. A boy who'd been hurt beyond all measure and who now had to watch his own son grow up with a man who wasn't his father.

Was it true? The sins of the father...? Only how could a child as sweet as Justin be a sin?

Justin stared fussing, making the noise that was a prelude to crying. Alfred stood and picked Justin up, holding him the way he'd held Bruce all those nights, cooing the same sounds.

Justin quieted immediately.

"That's my boy." The words seemed to hang in the room, and Alfred took a deep breath as emotion choked him, making his throat full and his eyes suddenly wet. "I'm your grandfather," he whispered to the boy. Just this once he'd indulge himself. "I'm your paternal grandfather and you'll never know that—or probably not while I'm still alive."

That too needed to be said. He knew Bruce and Clark would wait until Justin was much older to even think of telling him the truth. And Alfred wasn't getting any younger. He had aches and pains, and someday he might have something worse. He'd already passed the ages his father and grandfather had died at. Pennyworth men weren't generally long lived.

Maybe they'd not had as much to live for, though?

He held Justin close, rocking slowly, smiling as the child gurgled happily, then fell asleep. Alfred sang little nonsense songs to him, the kind he'd made up when Bruce had been a child, only these were about his parents and his uncle and aunt—superheroes all, even Lois in his estimation. Also very silly people who loved each other in ways the world might not always approve of. 

He grinned at how well it all rhymed, even if it was getting a bit bawdy. Justin smiled in his sleep, and in the distance Alfred could hear the mantle clock striking the half hours until it was well into the wee hours.

The door opened nearly soundlessly. A gentle voice, one he'd heard for so many years said, "You're going to spoil him. Holding him all night."

"I used to hold you this way, Master Bruce. It never did you any harm." He turned to look at Bruce. "Do you want to hold him?"

"No. You two look right together. Besides, I'd wake him up and there'd be burping or diaper changing or something." A gentle grin, one that seemed both for Justin and for Alfred. Then the grin faded, and Bruce met Alfred's eyes. "Have I ever said thank you?"

"For what?"

"For everything. For living this life? I mean, I understand now. How hard this must have been for you. And you were always there for me. You must have wanted to tell me so many times."

Alfred looked down. "You never have to thank me, my dear boy. I was blessed to be a part of your life while your parents were alive. I thank God I was still there when they were killed. Everything I've done since you were born...it was never an obligation. You're..."

"Your son. I'm your son." Bruce sat down on the bed. "But..."

Alfred waited.

"But didn't it hurt?"

"Yes." He swallowed, watched as Bruce looked away. "And it was a joy. And you made me angry at times. And I have been and still am ever so proud of you. Isn't that what loving someone is all about?"

Bruce took a deep breath, finally nodded slowly. "Why did you want me with Clark tonight?" He ran his hand through hair that was already tousled. "Why did Diana seem to want that too?"

Alfred shifted a bit, trying to ease stiff muscles without disturbing Justin. "You care for him."

"Does that mean he should be sleeping in my bed?"

"Well, one could argue that as you're not currently in it, it's not much of a problem." Alfred grinned at Bruce's glare. "Sir, to be perfectly blunt, you've made an incredible mess of this. All of you. That said, there's this little bundle of love and innocence that stands as an example of something you all did very right."

Bruce nodded, his smile gentle as he looked at his son. "So it's all right, then? He makes it all right?"

"No, sir. He just makes it real. And, I'd say, imperative that the four of you find a way to make this work. In whatever combinations you need to." He took a deep breath. "It's not what I would have wished for you, but I'm afraid this is your life now."

"This is my life." Bruce stood slowly. "When Diana and Lois get back, it will get strange again."

"No, it's strange now."

Bruce started to laugh, the sound starting low then growing, but not so loud it would wake the boy. "It is, isn't it? Man, could we have fucked this up any worse?"

"Language, sir."

"He's too young to take that in." But Bruce looked contrite. "So, you think Lois and Diana are sharing a bed?"

"Do they have beds on Themyscira? I rather pictured a war cot. Or maybe a hammock of some sort."

"But you pictured them in it...being ummm friendly?"

"Oh most assuredly, sir." Alfred smiled as he imagined just how friendly Diana and Lois might get.

Bruce was wearing a slightly dreamy look himself. "I think I'll go see if I can wake up Clark." He glanced at Justin. "Unless you need a break?"

"A break? Oh, no, sir. I'm fine just where I am." He took a deep breath as Bruce left the room. 

Justin cooed in his sleep, and Alfred bent down and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Perfectly fine."


End file.
